


What do we say to the God of Death?

by Nikelaos



Series: Ours is the fury [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, i need a crying room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 16:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikelaos/pseuds/Nikelaos
Summary: One morning, in her featherbed, Arya thinks of her life as a Queen of the Six Kingdoms





	What do we say to the God of Death?

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place many years after the epilogue of "Ours is the fury". Even if this fic can be read apart, I suggest reading that first.

Arya opened her tired eyes. For six months she had always woken up in the same position: lying on her left side and with her right arm stretched along the other side of the bed, looking for someone who was no longer there. Her grey hair was the evidence of how many years she had passed ruling the Six Kingdoms, but it hadn't weighted to her, not until Gendry had been by her side. Then, the time had prevailed, and the God of Death came for her husband, and with him, he took a part of her heart.

Although all her five children and her grandchildren were with her, she could no longer reassemble herself.

Her old mind focused on her children.

Rob had become an excellent lord, and he ruled the Stormlands following the way traced by his father.

Ravella had fallen in love with the Prince of Dorne and married him, expanding the Water Gardens, adding new things to her brother's idea: not only the children from all social level played and studied together, but they learned crafts and fought.

Rickard was the only one who had taken her character and look and he had continued the explorations she had left unfinished. She remembered with a brief melancholy smile when, returning from a particularly long journey, he was sullen. After passing the continent she partially discovered, he found himself in Essos.

«A ball,» he had hissed, frustrated «This damn place is a ball.» However, this had not stopped him, and he had continued to explore.

Cassana had married her cousin, becoming the Queen in the North. Even in that case, it was a marriage of love and not only political.

Davos, her youngest son, born shortly after the death of his namesake, was holding Dragonstone and he had become an excellent diplomatic, managing to avoid the outbreak of strong disagreements between the Houses.

On balance, she could hardly complain about the life she had lived.

Being Queen had not turned out as terrible as she had feared.

"Duty is the death of love"

For her, it had not been so, indeed. Gendry's love had been what had not made her role heavy, and when that love was gone, all the weight had fallen on her little old shoulders.

She would never have imagined that surviving him would have been so difficult.

She closed her grey eyes, now faded by time, remembering that black-haired and blue-eyed boy who, without even knowing her, had defended and protected her.

* * *

«Is she still asleep?» Rob asked Davos perplexed as they walked along the hallway leading to the Queen's rooms.

«Nobody saw her,» he replied, «she's letting herself go, Rob. She doesn't want to react.» he continued, biting his lip. 

The other sighed, «I noticed, Father's death hit her more than she expected.»

Once they were at the Queen's apartment door, Rob knocked gently, «Mother?»

There was no answer.

Frowning his forehead, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands opened the door, noting his mother in bed, lying on her side, her long grey hair scattered on the pillow and her right hand on the pillow where his father slept until six months before.

«Mother?» he tried again, approaching the bed. Once he arrived in front of her, he noticed that she was smiling, but that was not what made his heart stop.

He bit his lip, trying to maintain the behaviour of a man of his age.

«Davos,» he said in a low voice, «send the ravens to the highborns of the Six Kingdoms and the representatives of the small folks.» 

The brother blanched, «Is she…?»

«Yes, she is,» he merely said, without taking his eyes off the woman, who lay motionless on the featherbed, «Go, there's no time to lose.» The man went out, leaving him alone.

He remembered a phrase his mother often repeated, especially when recruits began training.

_ «There is only one God, and his name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death.» _

Rob bent over, while a tear fell on his mother's face; he kissed her on the forehead, sensing how cold her skin was.

«Today.»

**Author's Note:**

> I admit that: I almost cried. I don't know why I have had this idea, but, even if it hurts to myself, I felt the needing to write it.  
I hope you liked it, and I'd like to know how are you feeling or/and what you think.


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